


Eliot and the Art of Sharing

by quellthefire



Category: The Magicians (TV), The Magicians - Lev Grossman
Genre: Best Friends, Brakebills (The Magicians), First Year Eliot and Margo, Light Dom/sub, M/M, Multi, Polyamory, Pre-Canon, Secret Relationship, Sub Eliot Waugh
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-11-20
Updated: 2018-11-22
Packaged: 2019-08-26 19:37:56
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 3,905
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16687675
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/quellthefire/pseuds/quellthefire
Summary: It’s Eliot’s first year at Brakebills and he’s determined to have a good time and look good doing it. He sets his sights on a potential boytoy, and unwittingly gets caught up in the games. When Margo discovers his secret Eliot realizes that for the first time in his life he has a true confidant and friend. And she’s perfectly willing to share in the fun.This is a pre-canon crossover of sorts between the first book and show. It draws a lot on the book scene where Quentin discovers Eliot and another boy in a Dom/sub roleplay scene.





	1. Cigarettes & Cufflinks

**Author's Note:**

> I wanted to explore how Eliot and Margo first became friends, and kept coming back to that early BDSM scene in book 1. I drew a lot on certain details from the book for setting up the plot and the boy he sets his sights on, but am not constraining this story to book canon (i.e. Margo instead of Janet). 
> 
> I think it'll be a fun exploration of Eliot and Margo before we meet them onscreen.

It was their first official day at Brakebills and Eliot could already tell things would be a little rough. For one, the dress code was woefully out of touch, and he hadn’t left hicksville Indiana just to be forced into an ill fitting uniform. Especially one without proper cufflinks. It was worth the risk of a write-up to look decent. 

He had gathered with the rest of the first year class and spent several minutes surveying his cohort. Most of them were perfectly ordinary. They probably were stellar students at whatever private school they had been plucked from. All high strung, and ready to have a breakdown the first time they got an A-. Boring!

A couple of them seemed promising though. A loud, slightly chubby kid who was clearly overcompensating for his insecurities by making himself the butt of the joke before anyone else could. And a petite girl with eyeliner so sharp it probably would cut you, (magic being real and all). She also was the only one who dressed like she cared about looking good. 

‘My kind of girl,’ Eliot thought with a smirk as he took a drag on his cigarette. They were supposed to be contraband here, something about the smoke messing with the nature students. Or maybe it’s just that not even magic could cure the effects of a lifetime of smoking. Oh well. It had helped him through life this far, why stop now?

Suddenly a very serious looking teacher with a pin curled bouffant was standing in front of the group. “Hello all, I’m Professor Sunderland and I’m here to welcome you all to your first year at our school. You are all probably used to skating by at class work, and that will definitely change. This is going to require lots of hard work and there will be many things that don’t make sense right now. That’s alright. In time you’ll learn to keep up with the course work. Just know that there are no shortcuts. There is also no smoking of any kind allowed on Brakebills Campus, Mr. Waugh.”

She glared intensely at Eliot and he silently disappeared his half used cigarette. A meek blonde next to him gasped, surprised to see that he already knew how to do some spells. He secretly felt proud that he was ahead of the class. It would make it easier to slack off. 

“Anyway, as I was saying..” Professor Sunderland continued to explain how class schedules would work, and where to eat meals at, and so on. Eliot decided to spend that time studying the boys. He’d always had a special fondness for awkward geeks. The ones who didn’t know that with a better haircut and some proper fitting clothes they’d be downright delectable. It was the ones who didn’t know their own potential that Eliot couldn’t resist. He loved a project. 

By the end of the lecture, and as the group of students started to disperse to their first classes of the day, he’d set his eyes on a target. A slight boy with rusty auburn hair that glimmered in the spring sunlight. Eliot was determined to have fun this year.


	2. Something to Prove

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Margo is trying to play it cool and failing. Eliot thinks he has her figured out.

Classes were pretty straightforward. Before you could learn to do complex spells you had to start with the rules and fundamentals. There was a lot of discussion of moon phases and wind patterns and calculus. They were sent back to the dormitory at the end of the day to practice the Popper finger positions and start on Latin homework. 

Eliot, though never formally trained, had developed his own set of spells that worked just fine for him. There was definitely some crossover between his spellwork and the theoretical structure they were learning, but a lot of it was just plain intuition on his part.

Margo, the well dressed girl from the morning was in a handful of his classes, as was the chubby boy, who was named Josh, or maybe Jace? He had turned out to be unremarkable at casting, but Margo was another story. 

Though she hadn’t known anything about magic before arriving at Brakebills, she was fierce about wanting to prove herself. Not in the obsessing over the top grade in the class kind of way, no, she seemed determined to prove to herself that she could handle the course work. There was a self-reliance that Eliot admired. It was clear Margo was there to defeat anything in her path, with or without help from others. 

Eliot found her sitting outside after their Practical Applications class at the end of the day. She was perched on a boulder behind a large willow tree, attempting to conjure a spark to light her cigarette. It was not going well. 

Without thinking, Eliot sidled up beside her and with a flick of his fingers her cigarette caught a small flame. The small girl glared up at him and huffed, before taking a long drag. “Show off,” she muttered.

“Says the girl who barreled past that charity case in the brown sweater to get a better marble in class. Face it, Bambi, you care just as much as the rest of them about being on top. Maybe more. You’re not just here to earn good grades, you have something to prove.”

She made another huffing noise and offered him a drag on her cigarette, which Eliot gracefully accepted. “Face it,” El said, “You and I might be the only ones smart enough to see this for what it really is, an opportunity to reinvent ourselves and have a little fun in the process, but you have got to seriously chill on wanting to prove you belong here. You’ve got the fashion sense to be cool, but you’ll never get anywhere if you show that you care.”

Eliot glanced down at the girl and somberly patted her shoulder. “Thanks for the bum, Bambi.” He winked before smoothly walking away into the night. 

Margo stared after him, and after a moment whispered “What the fuck?” to herself. That boy didn’t know the first thing about her. Who was he to tell her to chill out? 

Though he had been right about her caring. Margo was sharp, but never the smartest in the room. She’d spent years being forgotten about by classmates, and was determined to not get lost in the shuffle here. She was embarrassed that Eliot had so clearly seen through her aggressive tactics. 

She was just so tired of never quite being enough. Pretty but not gorgeous, smart but no genius, clever but not enough to knock anyone down a peg. Margo was lonely. She desperately wanted someone to count on, but she was damned if that person would be snarky Eliot Waugh. He was full of himself and clearly wanted everyone to know how effortlessly things came to him.


	3. Caring is for Losers

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This one is extra broody, but I think it’s a necessary part of understanding Eliot. I promise the next chapter will be fluffier and less woe is me.

Things, of course, did not come as easily to Eliot as he wanted everyone to think. He had spent years trying to cultivate this particular version of himself, and now that he was at a new school he didn’t have to worry about anyone discovering who he was back home. The sissy boy who dressed too flashy and accidentally killed a boy before he realized what magic was. 

The boy he has murdered was written off as an accidental death. He hadn’t looked before crossing the road, and had the bad luck of stepping in front of a bus, according to police.

But deep down, Eliot knew he was the cause. He knew he had wished it into existence. He knew that bus would have stopped if only he hadn’t been so angry at that boy. 

And though he’d never admit it, that had changed him. He stopped caring about grades or prom or the fact that he didn’t have any friends. He stopped caring about his father’s retaliation when he went out in ascots and waist coats. He had power now, and he intended to use it keep anybody from ever hurting him again. Even if that meant shutting out the world. 

Eliot saw an equal in Margo Hanson. She was fiercely herself, even if that self wasn’t something the world wanted to see. She had worked hard to be her own person. And deep down, he admired that she still cared. It was easier to get lost in drinks and whatever he could smoke or ingest than to admit that caring hurt. It hurt to want to be included. It hurt to care that you weren’t. It just hurt.

So by the time Brakebills came into his life, Eliot had near perfected the art of not caring. He would fuck cute boys, perfectly nice ones that would make for a good boyfriend, but he’d never call them back. He’d even fucked a handful of pretty girls, but still didn’t feel much. 

Even when he had picked out that copper haired boy, it was only because he was attractive. He didn’t know much about him, and didn’t care to. It was easier that way. Easier to not lose himself, after all, he’d spent so much time fighting to find himself.


	4. Fire Shaping

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Recovering from a nasty hangover, Eliot daydreams in class. Professor Bigby knows how to snark right back. Margo does some spying.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A little less woe is me, a little more sass.

The next day Eliot awoke to blinding sunlight and an ungodly pressure in his head; he’d gotten into his stash of gin last night. Unfortunately, he’d yet to find a way to magic away a hangover, but that was on his list of things to accomplish at Brakebills. He might as well do something useful with his time. 

He spent far too long deliberating on which waistcoat best coordinated with the tie he planned to wear today. In the back of his mind he knew no one would know if he chose wrong, but confronting the fact that he might actually care what people thought was too much to handle right now. He needed coffee, maybe some Kahlua, and water for sure. 

He trundled downstairs to the dining area, and was dismayed to realize breakfast had already been cleaned up. “So much for that,” Eliot mumbled to himself. This was going to be a rough day. 

Morning classes were a blur. Half of it he had already figured out on his own, and the other half was so horribly boring that he entertained himself with thoughts of the boy from the first day. 

They had yet to actually see each other since, but it would happen eventually. Eliot was certain of that. This boy had no clue what was in store for him.

He smirked and was interrupted by Professor Bigby asking, “Eliot, please share with the class what is so amusing about Harper’s Fire Shaping?” El stirred and plastered an easygoing expression on his face. “Professor, it seems useless to learn how to shape flames into pretty patterns in the air, when we could be learning how to actually manifest and control the fire.” Bigby sighed and and said with an airy tone, “And here I thought all you cared about was aesthetic, Mr. Waugh.” Eliot’s cheeks flared with a blush of embarrassment. He hadn’t expected the Professor to deride him. 

He slunk back into his chair, frustrated at himself for reacting. He should have just laughed it off. 

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

Margo had glanced at El, and noticed the sudden flush of color in his face. “Perhaps he isn’t as cool and collected as he pretends to be,” she thought to herself. 

He excused himself right at the end of class, darting into the corridor before Margo could catch up. She didn’t know which direction he had turned, but guessed that he had Botany next, so she took a right. At the end of the hall she spotted a tall, messy haired boy from behind. He was leaning against the wall and talking to a shorter boy with an anxious expression and auburn hair. “Aha!” She thought, “who is he talking to?”

The boy was in their year, she knew. He was attractive, in a Starfleet, Hobbit ear-wearing kind of way. Not her usual type, but he had potential. She felt weird about spying on Eliot, but after yesterday, when he’d tried to read her like a book, he probably had it coming. 

She could only hear bits of conversation, but it appeared that Eliot had mostly recovered from the embarrassment in class and was back to his carefree flirty attitude. The other boy seemed quite interested, but nervous about being seen talking to Eliot. It was fascinating. 

She supposed Eliot probably had a crush on this boy, and while he tried to come off as nonchalant, he was clearly not used to being turned down. 

Luckily for Eliot, the boy agreed to meet him after classes ended. Margo couldn’t hear where they were meeting up, but she also realized it would be a complete invasion of privacy to spy on them this afternoon. She ducked behind a pillar so the boy wouldn’t see her as he passed by on his way to class. 

Her heart was pounding, and she felt like she’d just witnessed the beginnings of something big.


	5. Pesky Morals

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> El asks out the copper haired boy, and realizes he’s in over his head.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I went back and listened to the telescope room scene to make sure I was getting Eric correct. It’s an odd thing to try and build a character off a handful of descriptive lines about how he interacts with El, but it also gave me the opportunity to run with the small amount of information Lev gave the readers about Eric.

Eliot’s heart was pounding. Of course he had to run into that boy right after Bigby’s class. The universe clearly had it out for him. 

Despite not feeling as collected as he’d wished, he was not about to turn down this opportunity. As it turned out, the boy’s name was Eric. He was slight in stature, and clearly nervous that Eliot had initiated conversation, but he also seemed eager. Eliot turned on his charm and managed to set up a meeting with Eric later that afternoon. He had made up the excuse that needed help with Harper’s Fire Shaping. It was, of course, a complete lie, but it was an easy lie to grasp onto when he needed a reason to talk to Eric. 

Eliot wasn’t sure if Eric had experience with other boys, or even if he was interested in them, but in his experience most people could be persuaded. He’d been with plenty of boys who swore up and down they were straight, and then 30 minutes later were begging for more from him. It was one of the things he’d carefully cultivated about himself. He knew how to make other people feel wanted. 

Was it manipulative? Probably. But it had become an incredibly helpful skill, his charm, and he tried to only use it when he sensed the other person was willing. Eric certainly seemed willing. 

The rest of the day passed without incident. He eventually got over the throbbing in his head, and actually paid attention during Professor Foxtree’s lecture. Definitely a better afternoon than he’d expected. 

When it came time to meet up with Eric, Eliot was prepared. He had snuck a flask of his own concoction into his school bag, and cooly waved as the other boy strode towards him. They sat on the grass, under the same willow tree Margo had occupied last night. Eric asked him about his day, and his face lit up when he saw El slip the flask from his bag. “What’s that?” he said earnestly. Eliot took a swig and responded, “My take on an Astro Pop cocktail. The grenadine is infused with starlight, so it’s like a delicious burst of fireworks in your mouth.” “Sounds dangerous,” Eric teased. “Only if you can’t hold your starlight,” Eliot responded with a slight smirk. 

Eliot quickly realized that Eric was funny. Maybe not as quick witted as himself, but he could keep up in a conversation with El. That was a feat unto itself. He found himself liking the boy more and more, and kept having to remind himself not to get too close. “This is just for fun,” Eliot thought to himself, “just because he’s cute and interesting doesn’t mean you have to fall in love.” 

They kept talking and drank until the bottle ran out, then laid back against the willow, gazing up at the sky as it grew darker. “I know you didn’t actually need help with that spell, Eliot.” Eric’s voice was barely a whisper, and El could feel goosebumps forming on his arms. Eric continued, “You’re the smartest in our grade. You probably already came up with a better version of that spell.” Eliot chuckled and said “Not yet, but I could start working on one if you’d like.”

Eric leaned in and quietly uttered, “What I’d like is to kiss you right now.” Eliot froze, confused by his hesitation. This is exactly what he wanted, and yet it felt wrong. Hollow. He’d lured Eric here under false pretenses, and even though the boy had clearly seen through them, he felt guilt over what he’d done. 

“This is what happens when you let someone in,” Eliot thought to himself, “you end up caring about the ethics of it.” He looked back at Eric, who was peering at him with a sincere expression, and El gently kissed him on the cheek. “Next time,” Eliot breathed, “I’ve got to leave something to the imagination.”

He collected his belongings and walked away, only pausing briefly to turn and wink at Eric. Today had been an unsettling set of events, but he could recollect himself. He could piece back together the Eliot he had so carefully constructed. Eric was cute, but that wasn’t worth throwing his sense of self away for. 

Absentmindedly, he wondered what Margo was up to. They hardly knew each other, but he felt like maybe she’d understand.


	6. Late Nights & Mixers

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Margo and Eliot grow close. But Eliot is still hiding himself from the world.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was a hard chapter to pace, and I’m not totally happy with it, but I figured posting was better than obsessing over the minutiae of it.

Margo wondered what had happened last night. She knew it wasn’t her place to pry, but she also loved some good gossip. 

She was at breakfast, mulling over the options when Eliot gently laid his tray at the seat across from hers. Surprised, and a bit worried Eliot secretly had psychic abilities, and thus knew exactly what she had been thinking of, she hesitantly looked up. 

“Jesus, Bambi, I’m not that terrifying. Though my snark has been known to kill.” Eliot nudged her with his tray and asked about her dress. It was vintage Chanel, she explained, from the 1920’s. “That’s a fantastic look on you, you really should embrace the flapper aesthetic,” Eliot encouraged. 

“Why are you being so nice to me?” Margo’s brows furrowed slightly, and she continued, “I’m certainly not complaining, but you were kind of an ass the other night.”

Eliot leaned back in his chair and nodded. “That is an incredibly true observation. There… may have been recent circumstances that helped me realize I was being hypocritical. So I’m here to propose a truce. I’ll stop lecturing you on the benefits of not caring, if you accompany me to the 1st semester mixer.” 

Margo looked impressed, but also a little confused. “Don’t take this the wrong way, Eliot, but since when are you into girls?” El scoffed, “My dear Bambi, just because I subsist primarily off a diet of cocks and abs doesn’t mean I don’t occasionally sample the other options. Variety is the spice of life, or something like that.” Eliot leaned in closer, and conspiratorially told Margo, “Besides, I wouldn’t be caught dead going stag. I need a pretty accessory to compliment my outfit, and you would be perfection.” 

Margo thought for a moment and then blurted out “Deal, but better promise you won’t fall in love with me. I don’t need you all heartsick, chasing after me all semester.” She winked and they clinked glasses, sealing the deal on their arrangement. 

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

The more time they spent together, the more Margo felt like herself. She’d gone into this semester wanting to prove she was worthy of Brakebills, but was slowly realizing that she didn’t care. 

Over the next couple of weeks, they went from awkward companions to knowing each other better than anyone else. 

She loved their late night meetups, Eliot would bring whatever new concoction he’d developed that week and they’d sip on it til they were howling with laughter. She always knew what was going on in the personal lives of their classmates, and they’d discuss the details, making up outrageous inside jokes that only they could understand. 

Eliot quickly realized that Margo was calculated with everyone but him. She let her guards down, and that was scary, but somehow comforting. He still struggled to balance the Eliot he wanted to be around Margo, with the Eliot the world saw. 

He had run into Eric a few times, and always played it cool, trying to not let his face betray how much he wanted him. It scared him to be that vulnerable. The only person who came close was Margo, and he couldn’t even bring himself to tell her about Eric. 

They had become inseparable, and he felt guilty for keeping that from her. But it’s not like anything had really happened with Eric, at least not yet.


	7. Secrets are for Sharing

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Eliot and Margo become inseparable, and no one quite knows how to define their relationship, even them. El finally confesses to his crush on Eric, and Margo holds the upper hand.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to everyone who has read so far! I truly love seeing every time someone leaves a ‘kudos’ or a comment. You all seem like an awesome community 
> 
> -Quell

The weeks passed by, and Eliot and Margo were inseparable. They spent every free moment lounging in the common rooms, sipping from a flask, or smoking whatever Margo had sweet-talked Josh into giving her. 

Life seemed pretty perfect to Margo. Eliot was the conspirator she’d never had. He understood her more than she knew herself. The lines of their friendship had gotten so blurred that it felt like the most intimate relationship she’d ever had. 

There were rumors, of course, that they were hooking up. Most of the students at Brakebills assumed Eliot was gay, but the pair cuddled and lounged on each other enough that some students insisted Margo was his exception. 

Margo didn’t know what exactly they were. She was his Margo and he was her Eliot. They had each other, and they were beyond labels at this point. 

Eliot still hadn’t mentioned Eric to her, though. They’d spot him in the halls and El would stiffen. Margo always tried to play it cool. If Eliot wasn’t ready to talk about it, then he had a good reason. They shared nearly everything else, and she could tell that this was a button not worth pushing. 

But it hurt a little to know that he wouldn’t tell her. He clearly had it bad for the boy, and she wondered why he tortured himself over it. It was the one thing that she couldn’t figure out about him.

••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

About two months into the semester, Eliot slumped down in his seat at breakfast, letting his curly hair fall over his eyes. “Honestly, Margo, what is the point of it all?” He picked at his shirt cuffs and sighed.

“Poor little rich boy,” Margo taunted. “What’s wrong today?” Eliot shifted in his chair and groaned. Margo rolled her eyes and poked him with her butter knife. “Spill it, El!”

“Alright, so I may or may have not totally been crushing on a boy. And while things aren’t completely tragic with him, it’s not going how I expected.” 

Margo suppressed a laugh, and nudged him again. She asked, “What did you expect?” Eliot dismissed her question with a wave of his hand and looked away. He sulked and refused to say anything else. 

Finally Margo sighed and said, “It would help if you’d actually talk to him. Everytime we see Eric in the hall you act like the world will end if you have a real conversation with him.”

Eliot glared up at his friend with a question in his eyes. “How do you know about...” he petered off in confusion. 

Margo took a sip of her juice and shrugged with a sly smile. “You’re not the only one with secrets, El.”


End file.
